Chapter 90 Date Paste Yam Cake

During the following period, Qin Huai’s life became very regular.

He would wake up early to prepare breakfast items, and after the morning rush, he would make pastries. At noon, he would clock out at 12 sharp, and clock back in at 1 sharp.

His “overtime” consisted of first doing some physical labor (making glutinous rice cakes), then starting online lessons (video calls with Huang Shengli), with some entertaining activities in between (playing with the stove), and finally tasting the results.

Under Huang Shengli’s guidance, Qin Huai’s understanding of ingredients and control over heat had improved to some extent.

He had even started making duck soup.

Although the results weren’t great.

For the third time, Ou Yang frowned, struggling as he paired a small bowl of duck soup with shaobing and date paste yam cake, and protested: “Qin Huai, can we go back to beef soup?”

Ever since he started drinking duck soup, Ou Yang had been missing the days when he drank beef soup and pork rib soup.

“Does it still taste strange?” Qin Huai asked.

Ou Yang nodded firmly. “Not just strange—it’s downright hard to drink. It feels like you’re sitting in a duck coop drinking soup. You get what I mean?”

“Then the problem must be in how the duck is processed,” Qin Huai frowned.

“Qin Huai, don’t overthink it. Your knife skills aren’t great, so there’s bound to be issues when handling the duck. The master just asked you to cook duck soup for a few days to get used to the ingredient—not to expect you to do it perfectly.”

“If it really doesn’t work, don’t you have a hot kitchen chef in your shop? Find someone with good knife skills to help you process the duck. Try again tomorrow—the soup will definitely taste better than what you’re making now, the kind that feels like drinking soup in a duck coop.”

“Your friend is actually pretty impressive,” Dong Shi said loudly on the video call. “Your duck soup looks so hard to drink, yet he’s actually managing it.”

Qin Huai: …

Dong Shi, your voice is too loud. The class audio is being played out loud.

Ou Yang shot Qin Huai a complaining look, his eyes clearly saying: Hear what the people are saying.

Qin Huai felt a bit guilty.

He wasn’t good at handling ducks. Following the tutorial but still messing it up, he knew the resulting soup was hard to describe. Ou Yang forcing himself to taste it these past couple of days was indeed difficult—truly a good brother.

Thinking this, Qin Huai handed Ou Yang another plate of date paste yam cake.

“Eat more. Tomorrow I’ll make you elm bark buns.”

Ou Yang immediately felt better again.

“Qin Huai, why have you been making date paste yam cake every day recently?” Ou Yang asked casually.

The reason was obvious—Qu Jing liked it.

Qin Huai felt that Qu Jing showed far more interest in date paste yam cake than in glutinous rice cakes.

Last time he brought her glutinous rice cakes, she ate them politely and gave them high praise, but didn’t come to the cafeteria to buy them afterward.

Date paste yam cake was different—she genuinely liked it.

Qin Huai had only made date paste yam cake twice before, back when Qin Luo’s Chinese teacher required students to read Dream of the Red Chamber over summer vacation. As everyone knew, the dishes in that novel looked delicious, and Qin Luo wanted to try every single one, though Qin Huai didn’t know how to make them.

Later, he saw that Jia Mu had sent date paste yam cake to help her daughter-in-law recover her health, so he found the recipe in a dessert guide and followed it to make it twice for Qin Luo.

Qin Luo didn’t like it much—she didn’t like yam.

Since he hadn’t made it in years, Qin Huai practiced for a week before bringing it to Qu Jing, slightly improving the original recipe by increasing the proportion of fine white sugar to make it sweeter.

While making it, Qin Huai discovered a major advantage of date paste yam cake:

It could be molded.

The method wasn’t complicated—it just needed to be freshly made. The heat control and technique requirements weren’t high. The filling could be the same as that used in glutinous rice cakes, while the outer layer was made by steaming yam, mashing it into a paste, mixing it with fine white sugar and glutinous rice flour, then kneading it into dough.

The resulting cakes were soft and sticky, with a gentle sweetness and the natural fragrance of yam—not cloying sugar sweetness.

Moreover, yam paste and date paste paired extremely well and even had health benefits, which explained why it often appeared as a “premium dessert” in historical dramas.

Simple to make, good taste, and suitable for mass production using molds—an extremely cost-effective dessert.

After discovering this, Qin Huai had grown fond of it himself. He made it every day—one batch in the morning, one in the afternoon—freshly steamed and sold immediately as a fixed item.

With frequent practice, he even developed variations. Normally the yam paste was white, but using purple yam made it purple, and mixing the two created different colors. Adding some sweet potato paste not only enriched the color but also altered the texture, making it even more fragrant and sweet.

During this period, customers at Yunzhong Cafeteria had practically been eating date paste yam cakes to their fill.

Seeing Ou Yang enjoying his food, Qin Huai also felt a bit hungry. He took a small plate shaped like a rabbit and sat across from Ou Yang to eat.

Ou Yang was eating a larger elephant-shaped one.

While they were eating, Chen Huihong arrived.

“What soup are you drinking today?” she asked as she approached, immediately recognizing the smell of the duck soup. “Duck soup?”

“Sis, your nose is as sharp as ever,” Ou Yang flattered her appropriately before complaining with a grimace, “Qin Huai’s duck soup is really hard to drink, and he still insists on making it again tomorrow.”

“Trying new things is a good thing,” Chen Huihong defended him lightly, then looked at the pastries. “Date paste yam cake again today? Any glutinous rice cakes left?”

“I didn’t make glutinous rice cakes yesterday, but I made them today. There will be some tomorrow. Sister, if you want, I can reserve half a jin for you?” Qin Huai asked.

“Reserve two jin,” Chen Huihong said. “Tomorrow I’m going to my brother’s house with Huihui for a meal, I’ll bring some for him. Last time he had his assistant go all the way to Suzhou to buy pastries from Little Zheng, and even brought me 10 jin of pastries. I should return the favor.”

Qin Huai was surprised—someone really sent assistants all the way to Suzhou to buy pastries. Truly a “generous” person who could be persuaded by his sister to donate money to renovate a school playground.

“Sis, what’s your brother’s name?” Qin Huai asked curiously.

“Chen Yingjun.”

Qin Huai & Ou Yang: ?

“My mom is very practical when naming. She thought my brother was too ugly when he was born and worried he wouldn’t find a wife, so she named him ‘Yingjun’ (handsome), hoping he’d grow up more handsome and have better chances.”

“And now his appearance…?” Ou Yang asked.

“When he was thinner, it wasn’t great. Now that he’s gained weight, you could at least call him dignified and prosperous. He’s always smiling like a Maitreya Buddha. Huihui loves going to her uncle’s place.”

“The last time I picked Huihui up, I saw him eating spicy snacks with her. He’s almost 40 and still eating like a kid…” Chen Huihong began venting endlessly.

Qin Huai poured her a cup of herbal tea to help.

It was an improved version—tangerine peel tea with brown sugar and salt.

Chen Huihong took a sip. “This tea is good too. Qin Huai, can you make some tomorrow afternoon? I’ll take two pots for my brother.”

Just then, Qu Jing arrived.

Yes—she had come in person after work to buy date paste yam cakes.

Previously, she never came specifically after work to buy glutinous rice cakes. But after receiving the date paste yam cake once, she messaged Qin Huai the next day asking if it would be sold, and once she got confirmation, she came right after work.

Since then, she had been coming every day without fail.

Fortunately, she got off work early.

“Dr. Qu is here,” Qin Huai immediately stood up. “Today we have white yam, purple yam, and white yam mixed with sweet potato. There are six mold shapes—what would you like?”

“Half a jin of each,” Qu Jing said. “I’m going to a welfare home tomorrow for volunteer work, so I’ll bring some for the children.”

“What time will you be going tomorrow?” Qin Huai asked.

“10 a.m. to 2 p.m.,” Qu Jing replied honestly. “That’s usually my schedule. The welfare home is short-staffed, so I help wash and cut vegetables.”

Qin Huai thought for a moment. “I’m not making desserts tomorrow. Would you mind if one more volunteer joined the welfare home?”

“I used to bring pastries to welfare homes back home quite often. It’s been a while since I made basic buns and steamed buns, so I’d like to practice again.”

Qu Jing didn’t fully understand why Qin Huai, who made desserts every day, would feel rusty, but she was happy that someone was willing to volunteer, so she naturally didn’t refuse.

“I’ll tell the director when I get back and reply to you on WeChat. With your experience in volunteering, the director will definitely be very willing.”

Qu Jing left with her pastries.

Ou Yang, chewing on date paste yam cake, asked in confusion, “Sis Chen, did I just imagine it? Qin Huai said he’s not making desserts tomorrow. Didn’t he just say he’d make glutinous rice cakes tomorrow?”

“Glutinous rice cakes can be finished before 10 a.m.,” Qin Huai said calmly. “If I start early, say at 3 a.m., making basic desserts won’t be a problem.”

Ou Yang gasped.

Could it be that what the aunties and uncles had been saying was true?

Qin Huai was pursuing Dr. Qu?!

Good heavens—he was willing to wake up at 3 a.m. to make desserts!

“Sis,” Ou Yang looked at Chen Huihong for help.

Chen Huihong remained calm. “I’ll come tomorrow morning to pick up the glutinous rice cakes anyway. By the way, Qin Huai, I have something about Luo Luo’s school I’d like to discuss with you—can we talk in private…”

Qin Huai understood her intent and nodded, pointing toward the storage room. “If you don’t mind, we can talk in the storage room. It’s quieter there and there are chairs.”

The two of them left Ou Yang, who was still confused, and went inside for a private conversation.

Once the door closed, Chen Huihong asked directly, “Is something wrong with Dr. Qu’s task? Why are you suddenly going to the welfare home?”

Qin Huai nodded. “Yes, there’s a problem. I feel that the desserts I’ve been making already suit Dr. Qu’s taste very well. She has been eating them consistently, and I’ve also been subtly suggesting that glutinous rice cakes and date paste yam cakes will become regular items in the cafeteria. But the side quest still hasn’t completed.”

“Why is that?” Chen Huihong frowned.

“I think the issue is long-term supply,” Qin Huai said. “My relationship with Dr. Qu isn’t close enough for her to be willing to come to the cafeteria after work for desserts on a long-term basis.”

“From our conversations, I’ve realized Dr. Qu doesn’t like going out much. She has no friends, no social life, and no hobbies.”

“Our cafeteria is a bit far from where she lives. For her, going out to buy desserts is a burden. She only comes now because date paste yam cake is still new to her. Once she gets tired of it, she won’t come specifically anymore, and my supply won’t count as long-term.”

“But the number of yam-based desserts and rice cake varieties I can make is limited. Even with variations, I can’t sustain it for long.”

“So what should we do?” Chen Huihong listened carefully.

“So we need to become friends with Dr. Qu,” Qin Huai said seriously. “Sis, you, me, and Luo Jun—we’re already among the people she’s most familiar with.”

“What we need to do now is build a closer relationship with her, become friends, and make her willing to come out to a friend’s shop to buy desserts. Only then can we achieve the long-term goal.”

Chen Huihong suddenly understood. “Got it. I’ll go do volunteer work tomorrow too.”

“To be honest, I’m very good at volunteering!”